


Wishful Thinking

by EntreNous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Delusions, M/M, Oblivious, Post-Hogwarts, Wishful Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-26
Updated: 2010-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape never wishes to see Harry Potter again. Why, then, does he keep seeing him at Hogwarts?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishful Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **snape_potter** 's [Back To Hogwarts](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snape_potter/520391.html) fest.

Severus Snape strode down the fifth-floor stairs of Hogwarts, keeping his footsteps hushed from force of habit. He needn't attempt such precautions any longer, of course. For not only were his days as a spy well over, but Hogwarts students had departed for their summer leisure some weeks ago. There was no chance whatsoever of catching some miscreant Gryffindor sneaking down to the kitchens or apprehending a reprobate seventh-year Ravenclaw attempting to pilfer from the library.

Pity. Such opportunities would make the long summer nights far less dull.

He lifted an arras which hid no one at all and grunted.

He should be glad of the reprieve, he supposed, pleased to let go of the vigilance that had for so long been his guiding care. But the customs of years were slow to fade, no matter how he attempted to relinquish them.

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, proving herself every inch the sentimental fool under her brusque manner, thought it unnecessary to schedule patrols even during terms. Instead she asked each Head of House keep an eye on their own students' whereabouts with the help of their Prefects. Were Severus to leave the watch Hogwarts to such patently absurd preventatives, he didn't doubt for a moment that the students would set the Great Hall afire as part of a lark gone wrong or drown each other in the lake whilst attempting to befriend the Giant Squid. Therefore, he kept to his typical rounds even though Minerva clucked at him about them in staff meetings.

He kept to the sides of the corridors as he continued his nightly perambulation. During Albus's tenure -- now, those were years for memorable patrols, to deal with this escaped convict or that possessed Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor! To be fair, such crises had been constant only during the last six years of Albus's term, but they had been most absorbing predicaments in that stretch of time.

Severus glanced down the seemingly vacant corridor ahead and began to pace quietly down its length.

The previous school year, filled though it was with the work of rebuilding portions of the castle, had been almost tedious in its quiet and calm. After he had recovered from his injuries and reassumed the post of Potions Master (relinquishing the role of Head to Minerva, and scoffing when she asked him to consider acting as her Deputy), he had found the younger students for the most part cowed by the tragedies of the year before. They tended toward obedience to a fault. Even older students who had been at best a trial during Severus's recent memory behaved more meekly than he had ever seen. Oh, the odd prank or exuberant mistake still took place. But there were certainly no notable rabble-rousers amongst them, not like in years past.

That Harry Potter and the youngest Weasley son had not been in the group returning after Voldemort's death to take their missed seventh year, well. No doubt their absence, and the lack of their typical reckless endeavours apparent to all, tempered the rebellious impulses of the others.

His footsteps were hushed on the length of cloth covering the next corridor. Listen as he might, there were no sounds to indicate trouble.

Trouble, it seemed, had left Hogwarts for other pastures. It was with some trepidation that Severus had kept an ear out for the news whether Harry Potter was to come back to Hogwarts at last in this coming school term. When, after the Dark Lord's defeat, the impertinent young man let slip to the _Daily Prophet_ that he was to take the year "off" (a selfish indulgence Severus ought to have expected of him), a few of Snape's colleagues dared hope Potter would choose to return to Hogwarts _after_ that year, to complete his education at long last.

Today's rushed evening edition of the _Prophet_ had put paid to that tedious rumour, however. According to the lavish, multi-page spread on the matter, Potter would take the Ministry up on their offer to begin training as an Auror in a few months without finishing his schooling. Not that Severus had read any of the fawning coverage; he had thrown the paper down in disgust as soon as he realized its subject, featured as he was in multiple photographs, each one of them giving Severus a disconcertingly cautious but hopeful half-smile.

Yet everyone Severus encountered throughout that day, from Hagrid, who dashed away fat tears of pride with his giant fist as he blubbered about Harry's achievements; to Filius Flitwick, who insisted on boring Severus with talk of Potter's excellent duelling skills; to Minerva, whose satisfied expression belied her vocalized disapproval of Harry's decision to avoid N.E.W.T. level courses: they all wished to speak at length about Potter's decision _not_ to come back to Hogwarts.

Severus ignored them all, and told himself as he retreated from multiple conversations he could now finally experience some peace of mind. He had not yet felt the relief he expected at this news, no. But no doubt it would come. As a balm to his aggravated psyche, it bore repeating more than once internally: Harry Potter would _not_ in fact be returning to become Hogwarts' eldest seventh-year student in recent history (leaving Marcus Flint the reigning holder of that dubious honour).

In the silence of the castle, Severus forced himself to take a deep, fortifying breath. Now that Potter wouldn't require watching and disciplining and taking down a peg or two at every turn, Severus could at last truly begin the next phase of his life, entirely his own man.

Just then Severus spotted out of the corner of his eye a figure hurrying around the corner. A student at Hogwarts in July? Any numbers of rules were being broken in a single stroke by the very fact of his presence, even if the intruder technically wasn't violating his curfew or committing an egregious crime.

Severus quickened his steps to keep up, and soon found himself running as the student fled down a narrow passageway and around another corner. The little brat -- all right, not so little, obviously an upper year student by his height and demeanour -- was actually getting away from him, whether or not he had perceived Severus was his pursuer.

His mind raced, and on impulse he took a short-cut that was notoriously unreliable during the holidays (the castle was ridiculously moody when it wasn't fully inhabited, and at times took to dumping out some of its denizens in less than desirable destinations out of spite). Luck was on his side, however: his quick thinking worked in tandem with the castle's cooperation, and he found himself suitably placed at the opposite end of the connecting route the mischief maker had taken.

"Aha," he could not resist shouting as he blocked the only means of egress. He had his culprit now. He stood with his arms crossed, wand wielded in a tightly curled fist, fully prepared to look fiercely down his nose at the scoundrel and dole out severe punishment.

But no one approached. No one was there, not in the corridor, nor anyone anywhere in the vicinity.

Severus spent the rest of the night searching the castle, looking into suits of fidgety armour and interrogating sleepy portraits. But all his efforts yielded nothing. His wrongdoer had seemingly disappeared without a trace. When dawn's grey glow began to filter in the stained glass windows, he returned to his quarters disgruntled and weary.

 

 

*&*&*&*&*

 

 

"It seems unlikely," Flitwick said the next morning, as though this was helpful information. "I've not detected any problems near Ravenclaw Tower these past weeks. Nor did I hear of any problems related by the house elves or Filch this morning. No, it seems unlikely. Pass the cream, would you, Severus?"

Severus put down his cup of tea with a clatter and pointedly did not pick up the jug of cream. "Yes, because that adequately describes all of the goings-on at Hogwarts throughout the years; only things that are extremely _likely_ have occurred. Thank you for that perceptive observation."

"You needn't be cross, Severus. I'm only suggesting because the students are away and you're used to keeping watch over them, perhaps last night while you were strolling about with nothing in particular to inspect, you merely saw something."

"Indeed I saw something," Severus said as slowly as possible. "I saw a student where one should not have been."

"Well, there you are." Filius looked pointedly at the jug of cream to Severus's other side. Severus made no move to aid him. No doubt had Minerva permitted the swish-and-flick of the Hover Charm at the meals, Flitwick would have levitated the cream over by himself. But as they all observed the niceties of proper wizarding table manners, he was reduced to sighing and heaping sugar over his porridge instead.

"And so I must discover why the student was there and apprehend him," Severus continued through gritted teeth.

"Oh, I meant, er," Flitwick paused, his spoon trained over his porridge. "When I said you merely saw something, I meant you must have imagined it."

"Imagined it," Severus repeated. He felt his fists curl in repressed fury. "Imagined a student frequenting the corridors during the holiday? What do you take me for, Flitwick, a man of weak mind?"

"My, it is getting late," Filius exclaimed, making a show of examining his pocket watch.

"Whatever are you discussing?" Minerva called from down the table with some disapproval. She had been in no doubt banal conversation with Aurora Sinistra, but now she turned her attention their way.

"A student invaded the castle last night." Severus closed his eyes, increasingly regretting his decision to join those fellow staff members who remained at Hogwarts during July for breakfast.

"Invaded, you say?" When he opened his eyes, she was regarding him with both brows raised. "While I welcome your concern, Severus, I have not heard of any mischief caused in the night by anyone, invading student or no. Nor did my morning checks report anything amiss with the wards, which ought to have revealed any intruders."

"And as I told Severus, Filch or the House Elves surely would have seen some sign if there had been a student in the castle," Filius piped up.

"All the same, I witnessed the trespass myself in the corridors last night."

"To what end?" Aurora interrupted.

"What?"

"To what end was the student there? For what purpose? If indeed he was there at all," she added with a nod for Minerva and Flitwick.

"That remains to be seen." He glared when the three of them exchanged shrewd looks. He had expected outrage about his findings, not some idiotic suggestion that he had dreamed the matter.

"I will be patrolling again tonight," Severus announced to forestall any further insipid contributions from the others. "You all may doubt the seriousness of such a transgression, but I for one have seen to what dangerous paths the smallest of misdeeds may lead." He turned to address Minerva specifically. "I shall come to you with the student once I have laid my hands upon him."

"Certainly, Severus," she replied, though her pursed lips and narrowed eyes bespoke her scepticism.

He stood up abruptly, throwing down his serviette and striding from the Great Hall. He would catch his prowler tonight.

 

 

*&*&*&*&*

 

 

Severus had been only an hour into his planned surveillance that night when he again caught sight of his intruder.

As he descended the stairs, he spotted a figure several flights below him, paused on the landing. His pose was one of indecision, as though he was contemplating his next movement or perhaps on the lookout for a mate who had arranged to meet him and was now late.

Had his trespasser decided to move further, Severus realized, he would be headed in the direction of the dungeons.

The question of whether Severus would make his pursuit in silence or no was settled when he unthinkingly blurted out, "You there! Stop at once!"

The positioning of the young man as he jerked in surprise, and Severus's quick resumption of his journey downward, kept Severus from seeing the immediate reaction of his quarry. But as Severus moved, he could see his prey gain speed as he rounded the next flight, already on the run.

Black hair, Severus noted as he tried to overtake the student, catching only glimpses of him as he rushed onward. Messy tufts of black hair, and when he turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder at his pursuer, flushed cheeks from running, parted full lips as he panted, wide green eyes widening further in recognition --

"Potter!" Severus thundered, speeding up.

His target skidded, nearly falling as he changed tacks to dart down a corridor and then scramble into a classroom. Severus gained speed, finding himself almost on his mark's heels.

But when he entered the room, he froze at the threshold. Empty. The room was empty. Potter had disappeared.

 

 

*&*&*&*&*

 

 

It was with great impatience that Severus awaited the reply to his owl.

He had at first thought to wake Minerva with the news. But anticipating her incredulity, especially given Severus's continued inability to take the perpetrator into custody, he decided instead to send a severe warning to Potter at once, letting him know he would not get away with his misdeeds.

There was no worry the response would be delayed until morning; he had sent the most aggressive and persistent of the school owls especially to deliver his admonition.

"Yes," Severus hissed when the owl flew through his open window, Potter's reply messily attached to its leg. "Now I shall get some satisfaction." He rapidly unrolled the scroll to scan the scrawl inside.

>   
> _~~Snape~~ ~~Severus~~ Professor,_
> 
> _I've no idea why you sent an owl to sit on my head and nip at my ear until I woke up, but even less idea why you think I've been at Hogwarts tonight._

As if one could have _less_ of an idea than no idea at all -- Severus shook himself and read on.

 

>   
> _You know I've not been back to the castle since the memorial that took place directly after the Battle of Hogwarts._
> 
> [Here an entire line had been blotted out]
> 
> _Listen, ever since you said you didn't wish to meet with me no matter how many times I asked, I've stayed away. I don't wish to -- but if you've perhaps changed your mind, I could --"_

Severus crumpled the parchment in disgust. So this was what Potter intended, to deny his obvious presence at Hogwarts, and make a fool of Severus. It was nothing more than a puerile prank designed to provoke and annoy. Given that the idiot attempted to claim he had never returned when Severus had sighted him not once but twice, he clearly meant to continue his joke.

But Potter would be most disappointed, Severus thought with a nasty smile, when he returned and found the doors to Hogwarts barred against him.

 

 

*&*&*&*&*

 

 

"Certainly not!"

"Why the hell not?" Severus shouted back. He couldn't help but yell, especially when confronted with the Headmistress's stubborn reaction; after all, he had barely a wink of sleep the past nights. To add to his wretched mood, it galled him to sit in audience before Minerva in the Head's office that had once been his, asking for much-needed aid in this untenable situation while she blatantly and senselessly refused him from behind her immense desk.

"Why will I not forbid Harry Potter from setting foot on the grounds or in the castle ever again?" Minerva shook her head. "Severus, I really do wonder if you ought to take a week at the shore. You've the time before the start of term, and really, you went straight from recovering to teaching this past year, with no time away during any of the hols. It's no surprise that you need time to rest, particularly after all of your work and sacrifices to help defeat Voldemort. Take a week, take two --"

"Do not attempt to distract me," Severus interrupted. "You've heard I saw him skulking about Hogwarts without a doubt these two nights past, and seen how his note denies it all! What more evidence do you require to see he means to trifle with me?"

"Severus," Minerva said sternly. "Harry Potter is a former student, a credit to his House and a help to his peers, and defeated the worst enemy the Wizarding world has seen in this very castle. And you mean to tell me you actually expect I should notify him he is no longer welcome here?"

He frowned at her. "Precisely."

Minerva snorted. "This is nonsense. If Harry says he was not here, and you have no actual _proof_ \--"

Severus leapt to his feet. "Just because you are besotted with a coddled favourite who broke rule after rule whilst enrolled here --"

"Severus," she warned.

"How you expect to retain control of this institution when you refuse to acknowledge the most blatant of delinquencies on its premises, I have no idea --"

"Severus," she repeated, more sharply.

He straightened his vest and smoothed his robes. "If you will not lend your authority to resolve the situation, then I must simply --"

"You will do nothing to keep Harry Potter away from Hogwarts," Minerva proclaimed, her voice shrill.

They glared at one another in silence.

"You will do nothing, that is, aside from genuinely considering my advice to take time away," she continued in a normal voice.

He pivoted on his heel and exited as quickly as possible, lest she offer more useless advice or force him to eat a biscuit from her tin of shortbread.

"No matter," he muttered as he made his way to his quarters. Perhaps Minerva had prohibited Severus from keeping Harry away from Hogwarts by edict or by blocking him with wards or means of magic; she had said nothing, however, about confronting him elsewhere, and he would take advantage of her oversight.

Tonight would very likely bring Potter, who apparently could not resist flaunting his access to the castle and continuing to show off his as-yet undiscovered means of escaping without detection. It wasn't that blasted Invisibility Cloak of Potter's; of that much Severus was certain. The summoning and revealing spells he had performed in the pertinent areas had put paid to that suspicion.

Obviously Potter derived some excitement out of leading Severus on, so much so that he had created a heretofore unknown method of perpetrating his trickery. But he would do well to remember: he was not the only wizard involved in these encounters who could employ unapproved and devious tactics if it meant the difference in getting his man.

 

*&*&*&*&*

 

 

By prior resolution, Severus kept his patrol that night to areas of the castle with easy access to rooms with hearths. His focus paid off when, not half an hour after he had begun to stalk through the corridors and survey the concealed nooks and open areas, he spied the very one he sought: Harry Potter, sitting on a shadowed wooden bench beside a small alcove, craning his neck to look around, for all the world seeming as though waiting for someone he had a prior arrangement to meet.

Severus stole forward silently. Potter's perch was at the very end of the long corridor, a great many paces away, almost too far away to discern who exactly occupied the spot. But Severus would know that tousled hair anywhere, and he would recognize those coltish legs Potter had since his last growth spurt apart from any other young man's any day. For what other young man had he watched with such scrutiny and care through the years as he had Potter?

Add to that, even at the distance remaining between them (which Severus worked on closing as quickly as possible while still moving as noiselessly as he could over the stones) -- he could detect that so familiar manner of skittish delinquency, of nervousness and mischief mixed together that characterized Potter to a tee. Severus would have known it in his posture even if he had only glimpsed Potter at a great distance through a crowd. Here, with the two of them alone in a nearly empty castle, Potter simply stood no chance of deceiving Severus as to his identity.

As Severus closed in, he could see Potter shift apprehensively as he watched in the other direction. Surely he was not actually meeting anyone else -- no, no, clearly the fool thought to continue his prank, and the evidence was his vigil to catch Severus so he might lead him on merry chase.

The gall of Potter's effrontery sped his progress, and despite his admonition to himself to wait until he was practically on top of the lad, he couldn't resist calling out just as he was bearing down upon him. "See here, Potter," Severus growled, stalking toward the figure.

Wide green eyes turned to meet his, and Potter glanced to the left and right as if trying to gauge his chances. Some distance divided them still, and as Severus approached, Potter apparently decided on his course, though he bit his lip with a nervous expression before rushing into the alcove next to him.

Severus let out a shout of pure frustration and doubled his pace. But even as he arrived at the spot, what he had predicted would occur happened: Potter had seemingly disappeared into thin air, despite stone walls and strong wards.

Panting, heart beating a rapid thump against his chest, Severus took only a moment to lean against the wall. No matter. This was what he had planned for.

The step of entering a nearby room with a ready fireplace took mere moments thanks to his earlier forethought and planning.

He Flooed directly to The Three Broomsticks, barely pausing to brush the soot from his robes in the dark tavern before he Apparated just outside to the street. From there he hurried to a small alleyway, closed his eyes, and focused every fibre of his being on that last image of Harry Potter at Hogwarts: stealing a glance over his shoulder, teeth pressed against that plush lower lip, surging forward to hurry into the curtained alcove. As he did so, he pulled the note Potter had scribbled to him so recently, and touched the tip of his wand to the signature, _Harry_.

"Guide me," he whispered, and then Apparated at once.

 

 

*&*&*&*&*

 

 

He appeared in the middle of a cleared field, and only just managed to duck down before a rider on a broom in the middle of a dizzying dive to the ground could plough into him.

He cursed and ran for cover, bent over to keep safe; in the confusion, he noticed only abstractly the shouts of the broom rider to another.

The spell ought to have brought him into Potter's near vicinity, so he was only minutes away from finding the miscreant. He had stumbled into some late-night broom riding or Quidditch play, no doubt, part of the dangers of such risky spontaneous Apparating. But he had to pull himself together, stay on mission to find Potter and interrogate him about his invasion of Hogwarts. He leaned against a tree as he attempted to clear his mind and choose his course. While he brushed the stray bits of grass and sod from his person, he made out the words of the flyers.

"Hey, I almost crashed into someone down there! Did you see him?"

"No, but out this late? Probably some drunk!"

Laughter.

"He's over there. Think he's all right?"

"Dunno, let's go see."

With that, the two flyers (for there were two of them) alit, skidding a bit on the ground as they came to a halt not far from Severus's temporary haven. The taller one had ginger hair, while the other's stood up in wild black tufts from the wind and the flight, his green eyes clear but astonished, mouth agape --

"I thought I told you multiple times, Potter, when you asked repeatedly to meet with me with no rational explanation: I do not wish to see you! I never wish to see you again!" Severus yelled as he advanced to where they two stood frozen.

Potter managed to close his mouth. He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing along his slim throat once and then again, cheeks ruddy in the cold night air. He wore the strangest expression as he gazed at Severus standing before him, a mix of dismay, fascination, and excitement, as if he had unknowingly summoned a demonic spirit and had no idea if he wanted to banish it or embrace it.

"Then why are you here?" Weasley called out.

"What?" Severus whirled to face him.

"Professor, if you don't want to see Harry ever again -- why are you here where he is?" Weasley clarified in a ridiculously reasonable voice.

"The matter in question has nothing to do with the fact that I am here _now_ ," Severus thundered.

Weasley glanced back at his companion, who continued to stand stock-still, one hand clutching his broom, the other half-lifted and paused as if he had been just about to rake it through his dishevelled hair.

"I reckon he's gone completely mental," Weasley muttered to Potter, jerking his head toward Severus so as to leave no doubt as to his intended object.

"Let me make this abundantly clear," Severus said in a low voice as he pushed past Weasley to stalk up to Potter. "I do not desire to find you within ten feet of me in the future. Understood?" He moved closer at the last few words, until he stood nearly chest-to-chest with Potter.

Potter's hand was seemingly freed by those words, and he immediately made his hair even more unkempt by combing through it in a nervous gesture. Had he moved the hand forward instead of back, it would have easily rested on Severus's shoulder, like the start of an embrace. The idea appeared to occur to them both at the same time, for Severus could feel his quickened breath matching Harry's.

"Then perhaps you had better back away from him," Weasley called out from behind Severus. "You're a lot closer to him than ten feet apart. Hell, I don't think you're even ten inches --"

"Enough," Severus snarled. He trained his scornful stare on Potter. "I trust you will not make the same mistake again."

"Er. Yeah?" Potter tried. He looked perplexed, that perfectly straight nose of his wrinkled slightly in confusion. As he gazed up, his eyes darted to Severus's frowning mouth, to his eyes, and then oddly, again to his mouth.

"Then we are agreed." Without pausing for a coherent reply (though as Potter still watched his mouth, perhaps he had been silenced in expectation of a longer admonition), Severus took three steps back before Apparating to Hogsmeade.

 

 

*&*&*&*&*

 

 

"Feeling all right, Severus?" Flitwick had the nerve to ask him after dinner three evenings later.

Severus glared. "My well-being is no concern of yours."

Filius laughed. "I should say you're back to normal, then. No more midnight visitors popping round of late?"

With a disdainful snort, Severus walked away from his colleague. His plan to discover Potter and threaten him into stopping his pointless game had certainly paid off, though Flitwick deserved no information regarding the results or how Severus had obtained them. The salient point was this: there had been no disturbance to his nightly surveillance of the corridors for two nights in a row.

He knew the situation should stand resolved -- no, it was well and truly resolved.

Still, a niggling feeling in the back of his brain, a suspicion that Potter's prank was not yet fully played out, kept him on his guard as he prowled the dungeons and ascended to walk other areas of the castle.

He paused at the turn toward a generally deserted set of classrooms. This particular wing of rooms was put to use only at certain times of the year, such as N.E.W.T. examinations. For the remainder of the year the classrooms stood unoccupied -- unoccupied, that was, except by besotted students seeking a place where they could imagine themselves alone. These idiotic couples seemed to think it would occur to no one to discover them in such places, though Severus had apprehended many a pair (as well as a few groups of three -- and on one memorable occasion, a gathering of five) and handed out suitably harsh punishments for their improper behaviour.

He scowled at the rooms that now stood totally vacant. What he wouldn't give for some would-be lovebirds to punish right now! Perhaps that would alleviate his disquiet, a disquiet he somehow could not shake despite having scared off Potter successfully. If only Potter himself were here, in a clinch with some witch! Severus would tear him away from his amorous object (sending the girl packing with frightened shrieks at Severus's fearsome glare), and yank him close with both fists grasping Potter's shirt (such as the one he wore last night, with some bizarre Muggle logo on the front and a zippered jacket thrown over it). Then he would murmur with no little menace, "Did you fancy yourself quite alone? Unfortunately for you, Potter, I will always find you." Potter's green eyes would narrow -- no, widen, they would widen in alarm -- and Severus would give a satisfied smile at having caught his prey as he loomed ever closer --

Abruptly, as though Severus had bade Potter materialize by his thoughts of rebuking him, Potter stood across the room, watching Severus.

His eyes were just as wide as Severus had pictured, though not in alarm, no, with some other kind of -- and then he smiled -- _smiled!_ \-- and turned his head away. As if he pretended himself suddenly shy, when he had most brazenly infiltrated the castle once again, disobeyed Severus's vociferous demands, and flaunted his presence just when Severus had nearly convinced himself perhaps Potter really would stay away from him forever.

"Impertinent!" Severus roared. "Insolent! Impudent!"

Potter blinked, and then as if surprised, stumbled back -- toward the shadows in the corner.

"No!" Severus lunged forward, his motions mimicking his imaginings of just moments ago, of reaching out and grasping Potter by the shirt. He would stop him this time, keep him from disappearing without explanation, yank him close so that Potter could not turn away, so that Severus could --

Potter disappeared.

Severus grasped at air, stumbled forward when there was no one there to stop his trajectory. For a moment he put his hand to the wall, the solid, inescapable wall, and panted.

A beat later, and he was running out of the room, to the nearest Floo. It would take a few moments, and he was not as prepared as the other night when he had surprised Potter by locating him without warning. But (and he patted his pocket to assure himself) he had Potter's note with him still, had kept it for just such a circumstance. Tonight Potter would unquestionably be made to comprehend Severus's wishes.

 

 

*&*&*&*&*

 

 

Severus Snape blinked to find he was facing one of Diagon Alley's finer restaurants, but soon enough he drew himself up, taking a deep breath to gain composure.

He had followed very nearly the same process as before: Flooing to the closed Three Broomsticks, Apparating just outside, touching his wand to the letter, and performing the signature-guided Apparition as he kept vivid in his mind the image of Harry he had seen. This time, he pictured that almost coy turn of the head away, that outrageously inappropriate smile, that moment Potter's pink tongue flicked out to wet his trembling lips when he had realized Severus had him in his grasp --

Wait, no, that last bit had not actually happened. But it would. It would! Severus charged through the restaurant entrance before him.

Sure enough, there was Harry Potter, seated at a cosy candlelit table by himself. He had his chin resting on his fist, head turned to look out the window nearby as though his imagination had conjured some or other arresting image.

Then Potter looked up and realized Severus stood glaring opposite him. He visibly paled.

"You agreed!" Severus hissed as he approached the table. "I told you my terms, and you conceded!"

"What are you -- the other night, you mean? I hadn't the faintest idea what you meant," Potter blurted. "Of course I _agreed_ when you said whatever the hell you said; you showed up out of nowhere, acting all mental, and --"

"Do you make a habit to agreeing wholehearted to requests which you do not comprehend? Especially to someone you consider to acting as though he's taken leave of his senses? That is _exactly_ like you, exactly something you would do in a moment of confusion, committing yourself to something without learning the terms! Did you learn nothing from me in all the time we spent together?"

"What did you expect me to do but agree to what you wanted? You were angry as anything! Going on about how you don't want to see me anymore, even though you were the one who showed up there -- and the one showing up here tonight, I might add!" Those green eyes narrowed. "For someone who doesn't want to see me ever again, you have a funny habit of turning up wherever I go lately." By this time Potter had his palms flattened against the fine linen tablecloth, clearly a moment away from springing to his feet and accosting Severus.

Severus stared, wordlessly daring him to approach, willing Potter to make a scene so Severus could show him exactly what he could do to him in retribution.

"Harry," a voice said uncertainly at Severus's shoulder. "This seems -- well, it seems a bit complicated. Maybe I had better --"

Severus turned sharply, finding himself almost head to head with a man, a very tall man with long black hair and what one would perhaps _charitably_ call a beak of a nose.

"Leave us," he ordered at once. One of Potter's friends, (though not one Severus recognized from recent instruction at Hogwarts; he appeared perhaps ten years older than Harry), one of his fawning followers evidently ready to defend Harry despite his obvious culpability, was the last person Severus wished to see. Not when Severus was about to impress upon Potter his requirement: that this would be the last time Potter would torment Severus with his unexpected late night appearances and even more abrupt and unexplainable departures.

The other man put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Thanks anyway for dinner, Harry, I hope you -- well, that you two work out, er, whatever this is." He hurried away from the table.

Belatedly, Severus looked down at the small table to see two place settings, two glasses filled with wine.

"Will this gentleman be joining you, sir?" a server asked at Severus's elbow.

"Most certainly not," Severus answered at the exact same time that Harry said, "Like hell he will."

Severus glared. "I do not wish to --"

Harry rubbed his closed eyelids as though weary, and Severus felt a strange pang at not seeing the arresting green of his eyes. "Yeah, I get it. You don't want to see me ever again, until the next time you show up, that is." He shook his head when Severus opened his mouth for a rebuttal. "You never want to see me? Well, that makes two of us. Don't come near me ever again."

And with that, Potter got to his feet and left.

 

 

*&*&*&*&*

 

 

A week later, walking along in the shadows of the fourth floor corridor, Severus kept his eyes as sharp as ever, trained on every dark shadow, focused on each possible shift of air. Nothing. He was alone.

He paused at the foot of the stair, looking to his right and left before sinking to seat himself on the lowest step. There was no question. This was what he wished, a marked lack of disturbance, an evident respect for boundaries, a fulfillment of his desire to be left to his own devices, unperturbed by pranksters and delinquents.

He had found Harry twice now and made his desires abundantly clear. Seven nights had passed since that last encounter. No Harry Potter. The prank, if it had ever been a prank in the first place (Harry's strange lack of pleasure at aggravating him at their recent meetings had planted doubts about that), was finished.

Between terms, Severus told himself, he could realistically expect never to encounter harassment by way of Potter trespassing Hogwarts. And barring the unwelcome glimpse in passing whilst walking Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade -- and perhaps the quite rare occupation of the same hall during some or other Ministry commemorative event -- he could reasonably anticipate never encountering Harry Potter again. Needless to say, this realization ought to mark a moment of celebration.

He gave up on his continued patrol -- there was no point any longer -- and slowly returned to his rooms.

When he reached his quarters, he closed the door behind him, looking around him with an odd sense of strangeness. It felt as if he had been consigned to spend his life in this one room's space forevermore without reprieve and was only now taking stock of his surroundings. Ridiculous; he had free range of the castle and its grounds, of Hogsmeade, of London, of anywhere he chose to go, really.

He took his customary seat by the fire, muttering the spell to make the flames burn bright again from the sputtering embers. His fingers pressed against one another, elbows rested on the arms of the chair, he peered up at the clock. Early hours yet, but though he reminded himself he had a great many things he might do, none of them appealed.

Too early to retire, he reflected as he frowned at the click of the second hand. It might as well have been a thud of an anvil for the noise it seemingly made in the quiet of his rooms.

In other rooms, other homes, parents were likely coaxing children to bed so that they might have a precious hour or two together. Or young couples, having turned down invitations to go out with friends, could relish their night alone by the fireside.

And Harry Potter -- was he entertaining that young man from the posh restaurant with activities of a more intimate nature tonight? Or was he at a gathering of some sort, being pressed to meet this or that man or woman his friends introduced, in hopes of having someone with whom he could spend many evenings in the future?

Severus looked listlessly around his quarters. For once his solitude felt not like a comfort, but a keen sting.

It was at that moment he spied movement. At first he dismissed it, thinking his tired eyes were playing tricks on him. But no, he spotted a shadow passing across the partly-opened door of his bedroom.

He rose without a sound, moving at once to slip through the opening in the door.

And there, lying on the bed in the near dark was Harry Potter, one leg stretched out, the other bent at the knee, his hand brushing down his naked torso, continuing to caress his bare thigh --

Severus gasped audibly. And then there was nothing there, no one on the bed, no Harry Potter --

He pulled the note Harry had sent, nearly two weeks ago now (he kept it in the inner pocket at his breast at all times now, just in case) and stared at it. Before he realized what he was about, without first going to Hogsmeade or performing what had become nearly a ritual of picturing Harry as he had last seen him in Hogwarts, he had his wand to the signature and was saying hoarsely, "Guide me; guide me to him."

How he managed to Apparate from within the highly restrictive wards of the castle, how he managed to keep the focus sharp in his confused brain so he might be guided aright, he would never know.

He swayed and nearly fell as his surroundings came into view. For a moment his head ached too dreadfully for him to see them, and he had to take several deep breaths before the feeling of nausea passed.

But when at last he could turn his attention to his unexpected destination, he found he stood in the middle of a snug room with squashy chairs and bookshelves lining the walls. The fireplace had only a few live embers burning low, providing hazy warmth and soft light. On a small table, a mug of tea sat, apparently left unfinished.

He heard a low moan coming from the corner. No, there was a door in what had seemed a corner. Then there was a narrow corridor, and at the end another door opened just a sliver to indicate a dark room beyond.

His feet moved without his consent. His body compelled him on without his instruction.

Resting on the bed -- on Harry's bed -- Harry reclined in the same pose he had taken in Severus's room. By now his hand had drifted lower, and Severus could just make out the slide of foreskin over cock as Harry's fist worked down, up, over. The sound of the strokes, the scent of sex in the room nearly made Severus reel once more, though now it was a wave of bliss setting him to swooning. Unable to look away, he found himself breathing faster, to the rhythm of Harry pulling at his cock. He didn't dare move when Harry's other hand fondled below, cupping and lifting his smooth sac and then stroking behind it. Severus sucked in a breath while Harry arched his trim muscular body and widened his thighs, showing the tight curves of his pert arse parting for his finger.

"Oh fuck," Harry whispered. His eyes were closed, lashes fluttering, and Severus made a small sound of disappointment, for he couldn't see that mesmerizing green --

As if by unspoken command, Harry's eyes opened. He saw Severus. And unbelievably, his mouth turned up in a languid grin.

Then --

"Oh my god," Harry yelped, scrambling off the bed and groping around for a dressing gown.

Severus staggered backward, attempting to locate the door and make his escape.

"Wait!" Harry blurted. He managed to tie a knot in the belt, closing the robe while Severus cleared his throat and looked away. "Wait out there," Harry clarified, gesturing to the room Severus had entered initially.

There was absolutely no reason for him to obey Potter's orders, to linger while Potter decided what punishment he might rightfully seek from authorities for Severus's perverted behaviour tonight. Best to leave now, to avoid Potter's questions, to keep himself from ever seeing Harry again --

Severus sank into one of the chairs.

Moments later, Harry, his hair standing more on end than usual, his cheeks flushed (Severus's cheeks flushed in response as he immediately thought about why Harry's were heated), his legs still bare beneath his dressing gown, stood before Severus.

Severus awaited the questions, the charges, the recriminations that would surely follow. Following Potter the first two times had been justified, he knew. Interrupting a young man at play with a friend or on an ill-fated date with a paramour were excusable offences, particularly given that Potter provoked Severus by appearing where he was _first_.

But this, stalking a former student to his private dwelling? Watching while he wanked? Severus tried not to think of the long list of charges that might feasibly be brought against him should Potter choose to prosecute.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Severus scowled at the floor, feeling Potter's gaze resting on him as though it were a brand.

Finally Potter spoke. "Did you know that years and years ago, when Ron was a little boy and Ginny wasn't even able to walk --"

Severus sat up straight in his squashy chair. "Are you truly beginning to tell me a story about the _Weasleys_ at a time like this?"

"Molly moved Ron into his own room," Harry continued as if Severus hadn't just interrupted with a pertinent question. He slid into the chair facing Severus and continued his narrative. "Ron didn't want to go to his own room; he wanted to be in the cot with the new baby. Mrs. Weasley refused him, naturally, so it gave her quite a start the first time she found Ron sleeping in the cot curled right up next to Ginny, who was cooing and gurgling at having her brother with her."

Though the digression had done the service of returning Severus's pounding heart rate back to normal, he found himself shifting impatiently as Harry continued speaking. "Is there any point to this?"

Harry glared and then continued. "When Molly reached down to pick up Ron so she could remove him to his own bed, she found he wasn't there at all. He disappeared as soon as she was about to touch him. Well, you can imagine her heart just about stopped. She ran to check, and there he was in his new room, sleeping as innocently as you please."

Severus rolled his eyes. "I see no reason why I should be subjected to the chronicle of the maternal delusions of a young Molly Weasley."

"That's just it," Harry interrupted. "They weren't delusions. The nights following, Mrs. Weasley would check on Ginny only to find Ron next to her again -- then it was the same story. Ron disappeared, only to be found sound asleep in another room entirely."

"Apparating at an early age, then?" Severus inquired in the interests of hurrying the tale along.

"No. Ron was in his own bed the entire time. But he _wanted_ to be next to Ginny, and she wanted him there as well." Harry gave a crooked smile. "It seems she was forever crawling after Ron and following him, and he always wanted to be next to the new baby and protect her. So the thing is, they both _wished_ Ron was there, and that's where it seemed Ron was, though he was safe asleep in his own little room." Harry stopped as though he had said something very significant.

Severus's eyes narrowed. "Do you expect me to parse that nonsense? Explain why you've chosen to regale me with tales of the Weasley tots."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Because I talked to Ron and Hermione after what happened at the restaurant with Julian and Ron told me that story. Don't you see, Severus? Wishful Thinking. You wanted --"

At Severus's stern look, Harry sighed. "Look, let's start with this: _I_ wanted to see you after -- after everything and you refused."

As if he could not keep himself still at the thought, Harry rose to his feet and began to pace the length of the small sitting room. "I couldn't get it out of my mind. Everything you had done for me, for Professor Dumbledore, it was all out in the open at last. Finally I knew the full extent of how you protected me and looked out for me, even when you seemed to hate me. It was like finding a stranger had been there at the most familiar points of my life. The man I knew had only been half of the story, and I couldn't fully understand the side I'd never before seen. It seemed the only way I might was to meet you." Harry rubbed his forehead in agitation. "But you refused, when all I wanted was to come to Hogwarts and see you --"

"I saw you," Severus recalled, speaking slowly as he followed the story. "That first time, on the stair -- paused, as though you were looking for someone."

"Then, you wouldn't believe how amazed I was to get your note," Harry rushed ahead. "After all that time -- but you were accusing me of things I hadn't done, claiming I had been at Hogwarts that night. You know, I think that was the first time you wrote anything to me that wasn't about my horrid penmanship or how badly I botched my essays." He smiled, but soon sobered. "I'd been expecting some way to connect to you, and you only wanted to keep me further away. The next night I kept looking at that letter, reading it over and over and wishing there was some way for us to become friends. Finally I couldn't sit by myself any more, so I Flooed Ron --"

"The next night I found you in that field, flying with Weasley --" Severus stopped, befuddled by the implications of what Potter was trying to tell him.

Harry gave a short laugh. "Ron's my best mate, and I hadn't spent time alone with him in weeks. It was great that night, flying with him. But the whole time, all I could think about when I was in the air was your note. It was like my brain kept supplying scenarios of how we could finally speak and become friends -- not flying, obviously, because you don't seem terribly fond of it -- but some other way, meeting of an evening at Hogwarts to have a drink or play a game of chess. And then, there you were."

"I would think my determination to see as little of you as possible should have been the most relevant piece of information to take from our encounter that night."

"You turning up, shouting, pushing up against me, then talking low in that voice of yours --" Potter looked away for a moment and swallowed. "Yeah, okay, you _said_ you didn't want to see me. And I tried not to think about it again, because you seemed so dead set against being civil, never mind trying something else."

"Something else," Severus repeated dumbly. It dawned on him what something else might amount to, and he felt his cheeks flush once more.

"It wasn't something I expected," Harry exclaimed. "I didn't mean to think of you that way! There I was, on a first date with this perfectly nice --"

"He was perfectly ridiculous, is what he was," Severus interrupted. "Leaving at the very first instance of bother; is that really the sort of man you desire to see socially?"

Harry ducked his head and grinned. "He didn't leave because of a bit of awkwardness or a snag in the conversation. He left because he thought you and I had some messy break-up, and you were pestering me because you wanted me back."

Severus felt his jaw drop.

At this, as though despite himself, Harry snickered. "I don't think many blokes would want to stick around on a date shaping up like that, do you? Having someone's ex show, yelling and waving his arms --"

"I neither yelled nor waved my arms!" Severus pulled himself to sit upright in his squashy chair, trying to regain some control over the situation. "You seem to suggest I saw you at Hogwarts when you were actually out on your date because you -- you wanted --"

Harry sighed. "I mean -- you saw him, right? Remind you of anyone?"

"Of course not," Severus bit out. That the man might have been a version of himself ten years ago, he kept to himself. "Besides," he continued when it seemed Harry was about to laugh again, "You finally agreed that night to what I wished all along; you maintained you wished to see as little of me as I wished to see of you."

"Did I?" Harry asked softly. "I don't think Julian was the only one who thought about what the anger and intensity between us might mean."

Severus remained silent.

"When I told Ron and Hermione, Hermione said she didn't understand it. Oh, she believed you were really seeing me at Hogwarts when I thought you were imagining things. She said you didn't strike her as the type to see hallucinations."

"At last, a sensible view of the situation," Severus muttered to himself.

"And Ron reckoned you would have gone barmy ages before that if you were the type, what with all the spying and deceptions."

"Indeed," Severus said through gritted teeth.

"Anyway, Hermione hadn't heard of anything like it before. That's when Ron told us the story about himself and Ginny when they were small, how his parents figured out what was happening: an instance of Wishful Thinking."

What Potter was making a case for at the moment -- Severus tried not to show how tightly he was currently gripping the arms of his squashy chair. It seemed difficult to pinpoint where exactly he had relinquished his dignity and authority, where he had thrown over his command of his emotions. Was it when he had blazed after an image of Harry Potter pleasuring himself on his bed? Or when he had turned up at a romantic restaurant, and scared off Harry Potter's date? Or was it when he had seen Harry in the first place and assumed the only reason Harry would want to see him had to be a prank, a joke, so that he wouldn't have to face the possibility of how Harry felt -- how he felt --

No, he thought with some ferocity, this was not what he wanted! The idea! Being told he wished for something that went against who he was, desired something that would leave him without a shred of self-possession.

"Whatever you're thinking, it can't be good." Harry stood with his arms folded, leaning back against the bookcase and watching Severus warily.

Severus pressed his lips together. "Just because you -- you deluded yourself into thinking --"

Harry looked up sharply. "That's just it; it wasn't only me thinking that!"

"How dare you imply that I -- that I wished --"

"Because that's how Wishful Thinking _works_ , Severus! We have to both want the same thing, and then it seems like it's happening! Why do you think you could see me someplace when I was somewhere else entirely? If it was just me wishing, that's all it would have been, a wish! It would have come to nothing. But you wanted it too." He took a step forward. "And here we are now."

"I fail to see how _I_ , in any part of my being, wished for, for --"

"You want me," Potter said. His voice was so soft in contrast to his resolute expression. "You want me just as much as I want you."

Severus looked at the fire, doing his best to compose himself. "Don't be absurd."

Then he made the mistake of meeting Harry's eyes.

Severus had seen Harry Potter look determined before: when defending some or other simpleton he called a friend; when in pursuit of the Snitch on the Quidditch Pitch; when hurling Severus from his mind during Occlumency lessons with such magical force that Severus's head ached for days. None of those instances approached how certain, how utterly unwavering Harry appeared at this very moment.

Severus flinched at first as Potter launched himself forward, straight at Severus. Then he froze in unbelieving shock as Potter's mouth met his, as Potter actually climbed into Severus's lap, kissing and panting and undoing every bit of Severus's resolve not to wish for something, for someone, like Harry Potter.

At some point, perhaps after Severus had cradled Harry's face in his hands and kissed him breathless -- or maybe it was after he shoved the dressing gown down Harry's shoulders and mouthed against the pale column of Harry's neck, before nipping along his jaw line-- he realized Harry had never conceded anything at any point, despite Severus's stern stipulations along the way. No, it was he, Severus Snape, who had granted each demand while Harry trespassed every single boundary he had set and claimed every last stronghold.

He knew he could not deceive himself about this. Even if when he threaded his fingers into Harry's messy hair and tugged, or cupped Harry's arse and squeezed, Harry shivered and let him do as he wished. No, not even when he palmed the warmth of Harry's chest, rubbing his thumbs over first one and then the other rosy nipple, and Harry cried out in pleasure, letting his head drop back as though conquered -- he must from this point tell himself the truth, that Harry Potter was the victor in this skirmish.

Yes, he reminded himself as they stumbled into Harry's bedroom and he bodily covered Harry on the bed ( _sans_ the damn dressing gown, which he had finally tossed to the floor), he might think himself in control when he did things like capture Harry's wrists together above his head, or open Harry up with fingers and salve while Harry bucked and begged. But Severus Snape was a man who knew when to acknowledge he had been overcome in what had been not a prank, but a game he had somehow both lost and won.

As he entered Harry, his arms stiff with the effort of holding back, Harry refused the delay and worked his hips prettily until Severus gave in, fucking him hard, Harry's legs bent back to his shoulders.

No, he could not deny it, but in the end, neither did he wish to. After all, Severus acknowledged as the last paroxysm of pleasure swept through him and he heard Harry call his name, he had never experienced such sweetness in conceding defeat.


End file.
